


Stranded

by Wallyallens



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU, Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel 616, Young Avengers
Genre: (oh no), Gen, kate bishop meets the batfam, marvel/dc crossover - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-25
Updated: 2015-04-25
Packaged: 2018-03-25 18:33:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3820588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wallyallens/pseuds/Wallyallens
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kate Bishop meets the Batfam. On her way back from L.A, Kate notices Madam Masque has gone missing. Following the villain through the multiverse, Hawkeye ends up in Gotham - but can she survive the DCU? Mixed POV's.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stranded

Dick Grayson was having a good night off. It didn’t happen very often these days, but he was relaxed in body and mind, his night-time life far away and a smile on his face. It was genuine.

Wanye Enterprises was having its annual summer ball; an event which was dumb in itself, but all his family were there, nothing was attacking the city, and for once, things were going his way - so he wasn’t going to be picky about the fact the ball was basically just a chance for Gotham’s one-percent to meet up and brag about their lives and how much they’d donated to Bruce’s ‘charitable causes’ that night. 

He rolled his eyes a little at that whenever he heard snatches of conversation, but Dick refused to let other people bother him. Tonight was family night. Somehow, Bruce had been talked into leaving his own cowl behind for an entire evening – and letting the others spend a night in the light, too. 

Dick pushed his way to the edge of the room. It was beautifully decorated, with summer flowers wreathing every available surface and lanterns adorning the ceiling in red and blues and oranges – standing in a window bay, slightly above the crowd, he scanned the hall for his friends. 

His blue eyes ran over the hum of bodies beneath him, the room packed with over 300 people – a lot of them either congregated on the large dance floor or loitering by the considerably sized buffet table, not to mention the security guards stoically posted every five feet along every wall. There were so many people it was hard to pick out faces. Some even wore masks, glitzy things which wouldn’t be suitable in the field at all, only hiding their faces partly. 

However with his training, both with Batman and the police, Dick was good at finding people in a crowd.

Barbara was easiest to find, because of the chair. He’d stopped noticing it when he spoke to her after all these years, but when he was actually _looking_ , the metal of the chair glinted under the lights and was a dead giveaway. For years, the sight of the chair had brought a feeling of lead to his stomach; a reminder that he had failed her – now he knew it was a symbol of her strength. That she had been hurt, been knocked down, and kept going anyways.

He loved her a lot. Not that it was worth anything anymore.

She looked beautiful tonight; her hair piled elegantly on top of her head and topaz earrings making her eyes pop, even at a distance. The autumn of her hair complimented the red of her dress perfectly, shining like a beacon. She was smiling just as brightly, taking to her dad and some of the police in attendance at Bruce’s invite, but even as he watched traces of her smirk laced itself into the smile, her sarcasm visible as she spoke back to one of the men, sending them into barks of laughter. 

Dick felt a dopey smile grow on his face, but shrugged it away, choosing to look for the others. Babs was happy over there, so there was no need to disturb her. He dragged his eyes away painfully, before noticing someone sitting in the alcove across the room, just as he was on his side.

Squinting, he made out the forms of Steph and Damian, the younger boy seeming to be sulking about having to ditch patrol to come. He was sitting hunched up, knees pulled up to his chest and scowl on his face, glaring at the party as if it had personally offended him.  
Dick knew that if Alfred caught him scrunching up his tux by sitting that way, the youngest bird was done for, and spared a smile at the thought. Damian looked like a gentlemen and acted like an aristocrat, but he hated parties if it took away Robin even for a night. 

Steph looked like she was trying to coax him out of it. Sitting daintily in the window bay, she hung her legs over the side, bathed in light while trying to bring the boy out of the darkness. She was talking to him, grin on her face, not seeming to notice the murderous looks being sent in her direction. 

Dick knew that it was more likely she didn’t care. Like her wild self, blonde hair spilled over her shoulders in a windswept way, as if she had just stepped out of a hurricane. When she was dating Tim, Steph had gotten used to dressing the part for these events, but her attitude never matched up, often making inappropriate jokes in front of important people or camping out by the food for the entire night.

If anyone stood a chance of making Damian have fun, it was her. Dick understood the boy better than anyone, but they were brothers, not friends. Any attempt to make the youngest bird join in would be futile, and likely met with sarcasm. 

Dick was startled by a noise - Bruce was laughing loudly again. When he was younger, Dick had hated coming to these parties because of the way Bruce acted at them, transforming completely into the social persona he had built up for himself over the years – he boomed when he spoke and flirted shamelessly, everything to loud and too _much_. At home, he was quieter, but not lacking in charm. 

Bruce, Batman, and the person at these parties were three separate people, but Dick knew his father hated this particular persona as much as he did. The Bat was currently leaning against a pillar and talking to some blonde.

Dick though about going to rescue him but was beaten past the post by Tim, who materialised from the crowd and cut into the conversation, slowly replacing the blonde as Bruce’s conversational partner. Red Robin was always the smoothest when it came to events like these. That night he certainly looked it, gliding about in a classic black-and-white tux and talking to the company’s board members with professional friendliness, playing the game - the part - with relative ease. He was manipulative, not that anyone expected it. Tim had a habit of changing any conversation to exactly what he wanted it to be without the other person even realising it. The sneaky bastard.

Chance to be the hero gone, Dick wondered vaguely where Cass was hiding before a voice spoke behind him.

“Good spot,” Cass said. She was beside him in the darkened window sill, although Dick hadn’t seen her arrive. He started, jumping before seeing her and smiling. Of all of them, she was the best at hiding, after all. Eyes trained on the scene like she was assessing a crime, Cass looked down at the party below, “It is the best vantage point in the room.”

“That’s not why I’m here. We’re not in danger, Cass, I just couldn’t spot the others,” Dick shook his head. It was hard for any of them to shut off. Scratching the back of his head, he noticed how her navy dress complimented her black hair and dark eyes, smiling, “You look pretty, by the way.”

She smiled, the edges of her moth darting up. Trained to be nothing but a weapon for too long, Cass still wasn’t used to being a girl, or even a person. But she was getting better at seeing her own worth.

“Thank you. You too.”

“Relax, it’s a party.” Dick slung an arm around her brotherly, looking back out towards the event in question, “For once, nobody’s trying to kill us.”

Just as Cass laughed easily, face softened by the movement - gunshots sounded below. Typical.

The usual screams followed the sharp bang of the gun, Dick instinctively stepping a little in front of Cass at the interruption, despite the fact she was much more capable of looking after herself than he was. The truth was, he was determined that no one else in his family would die. 

Below, the people in the centre of the room moved as a tidal wave away from the sound, leaving two people standing in a circle of space, machine guns in each of their hands. A man and a woman, both of their faces hidden by masks.

“Calm down, calm down – this is a party!” As soon as he heard the voice, Dick’s blood ran cold. Only one man sounded like that, a mix of hysterical and terrifying: Joker. Taking his mask off only confirmed it as Dick watched from the darkened alcove, out of the line of sight for now. A scarred smile leered at the crowd, “C’mon, people! Aren’t you supposed to be having a good time?”

Dick looked across the room, checking his family’s safety first, but secretly he was worried one of them would slip. As civilians, they could do nothing without compromising their identities and that was just too dangerous; Nightwing could fight the Joker, but Dick Grayson couldn’t. 

Right then he was helpless. A forced spectator.

Damian was the most likely to explode, too young and reckless to understand that he needed to stay calm and not risk revealing he was Robin. His eyes darted across the room, seeing Steph yank Damian back into the shadows and physically hold him there, hand clamped over the boys mouth. He fought back, but the blonde was tough as nails when she needed to be, and for now, Damian was safe. 

Barbara, Bruce and Tim were in the line of fire, on the outside of the crowd circling to two assailants. Closer to each other, the three were talking with their eyes, Bruce giving a tiny shake of his head, barely noticeable, to tell everyone to play the dumb rich people they were supposed to be.

“Who is the woman?” Cass asked. She looked calm, taking it all in quickly.

Dick was too busy thinking that they were going to be forced to choose between dying and revealing themselves. He blinked, sharing a glance with her before staring down at the second figure: she wore a golden mask which hadn’t been removed. “I don’t know. A newcomer, maybe?”

Cass bit her lip, reading the situation. “The Joker doesn’t share power.”

“Not usually, no,” Dick agreed, “Not unless there’s something really big in it for him. Even then he’ll probably double-cross her when it comes down to it. Whatever’s going on . . . it’s bad.”

“What do we do?”

“Nothing.”

“What?” Cass demanded, eyes intently set on him in an instant. They were dark and angry. “People could be hurt. We can stop it. How can we do nothing?”

“Because we can’t risk being exposed,” he replied. Dick sighed when Cass’ mouth set into a disappointed line, placing a hand on her shoulder and forcing her to look him in the eyes. “Listen, I hate it too. We _could_ fight now, and probably stop the Joker, but after that – people will know who Batman is. We’ll all end up either in dead or in jail, and a lot more people will die because we weren’t there to protect them.”

Cass nodded slightly, hair bobbing. She looked determined again as she looked down at the commotion below, “You’re right. But if we don’t fight back . . . who will save _us_?”

“I don’t know.”

They both turned their gazes to the Joker, who was currently addressing the crowd; there was an unhinged grin on his face as he waved the gun about. His suit was not the usual purple, which would have been a dead giveaway, but a pure, bright white, the mask lying at his feet having hidden his face for the beginning of the night.

“This is a robbery, firstly. It’s also a message to the whole of Gotham – and of course my friend, The Batman.” He sneered, lip twisting up in a grimace, “The message is simple: this city is mine. I will take it by force if I have to, but there will be a change in management very shortly, and no one can stop me.”

“Excuse me,” Commissioner Gordon shouted, stepping forward from the crowd. Behind him, Barbara went rigid, watching her father step into the firing range of the madman, her knuckles white on the arms of her chair. But the old man stood unafraid, “I think you’re forgetting where you’re standing. There are enough cops in this room to take out an army. Move in!”

The Commissioner gave the order, and looked to the sides of the room for the guards to move. Since the beginning of the incursion, none of them had, and he assumed they were just waiting for the go-ahead. They did not move. Completely motionless, the guards did not even blink at the command.

The woman beside the Joker began to laugh, “I’m sorry, darling. I’m afraid that won’t work.”

“They’ve been paid off,” the Commissioner sighed disgustedly, “Of course. It’s Gotham.”

“Oh no, it’s much worse than that.”

“What do you mean?”

The woman’s mask covered her entire face, but her voice smiled as she clapped her hands. At the noise, the guards moved immediately, turning their guns on the crowd to another peal of screams. “My toys are so much more obedient than any paid thug. And don’t they look good?”

“Exquisite, dear,” the Joker nodded besides her, almost jumping with excitement at the robot’s entrance. “Now, they also aren’t cheap, so kindly remove all jewellery, money, and some gum would be useful – and nobody gets hurt. Much.”

The crowd moved slowly, people getting flustered and begging to hand over their purses when a movement caught Dick’s eye, still hidden in the window bay, a curtain hiding them from view. He tapped Cass on the shoulder, and pointed to another figure standing across the room.

“Look!”

The girl he pointed at was running. Purple dress swishing with every step and face masked around the eyes, she charged towards the central pair helplessly, unnoticed so far. Dick frowned. The girl didn’t seem to have a weapon, so what the hell was she doing? But he didn’t have time to think more, as she reached the buffet table separating her and the villains, sliding on the floor beneath it and disappearing for less than a second.

When she re-emerged, she held a bow.

“Hey!” she yelled, still sliding towards the Joker and his accomplice. She let off two arrows, both creating sparks as they hit near the assailants feet, buying her a few seconds to stop and roll to her feet, another arrow notched as she stood facing the would-be robber. This time, Dick could see the smug smile which graced her lips, “Are you having a party? Funny - I don’t remember getting an invite.”

Standing in the circle, every member of the bat-clan got a look at the newcomer and began committing details to memory, like Batman had taught them all. She was female, young by the look and sound of her, identity concealed by a small mask. That suggested this was fore-planned. Her hair was dark and tied in a ponytail high on her head, and her weapon of choice was the long bow clasped firmly in her hand, currently aiming for the Joker and his new friend.

The masked woman in question apparently recognised the bow-woman, “You!”

“Yeah, _me_ ,” the girl said back, “You didn’t think you’d lost me that easily back in L.A, did you? Nuh-uh. Ding-ding, round three.”

“Why would I need to fight you, Miss Bishop?” the masked woman asked. Her voice was sneering, but the mask still left her face emotionless, and frankly Dick was starting to get creeped out by it, up in his hiding spot. “That’s what my life-model decoys are for. You remember them now, don’t you?” The woman laughed this time, “I hear they left quite a mark the last time we saw one another.”

“When I burned down your house.”

“And paid the price in blood,” the lady said coldly, “I hear you took quite the beating, I only wish I could have seen it - but SHIELD got in the way as usual. I got out in less than two days, did you know? All your work was for nothing.”

The girl, ‘Bishop’, went still for a moment. The smile did not die on her lips entirely, but dimmed, face becoming thoughtful. Her bow remained tight. After a second or two, she shrugged, “Nothing’s for nothing, Madame Masque.”

“How insightful . . . for a child.”

“Bored now. Can we please get to the fighting?”

“Maybe one day soon, Hawkette. But for now I’m too busy. You will not get in my way today, or you will die.”

“Hawkette? Did you just call me freaking _Hawkette_?” The Archer made a face, jaw locking into a firm line of disgust. The joking was gone. “Right, that’s it. I could handle you burning down my trailer. I could even live with you putting a hit on my best friend. But calling me Hawkette is the final straw: everyone’s getting shot.”

The girl let off four arrows in the time it took Dick to blink.

Two hit the space where the Joker and Madame Masque stood, one startling them by exploding before the second shot out a net to ensnare the villains. It was metallic, and took them down effectively. Dick heard Madame Masque scream and curse before her voice was lost in the din.

The next two arrows hit the two guards by the door, and the girl was quick to turn to the crowd.

“Get out, everyone. Clear the building if you can, but get to a safe distance. Go!”

They didn’t have to be told twice. People became a mob when given enough incentive, no matter who they are, and the idle rich were no exception. They pushed one another, shouted and screamed, spilling from the room in a stampede of feet and colour. 

Dick moved with Cass quietly across the room, having to dodge one of the guards as they stepped from their window perch. Since the order was given by their mistress, who had detangled herself from the net and fled through the kitchens with the Joker, the guards had all started to attack the girl. From the way they moved, Dick would never have guessed they were robots: they were too fluid, too precise, too . . . normal.

But it only took a glance to see what they were, especially when they kept getting back up no matter how many arrows the girl put into them, smoking and sparking as they led a grisly assault on her. The girl stood in between their retreating backs and the doorway, watching the guards approach. She fired quickly, as if the bow was an extension of herself with the grace that only a hardened archer has. It was impressive.

As they passed her, meeting Bruce, the Commissioner and the rest of their siblings at the door, Cass turned to Dick. “Do we stay? Help?”

He looked to Bruce, who was watching the new hero intently, his eyes already Batman. It was what he always did. He watched, he learnt, he planned. Bruce wasn’t so likely to give this girl a chance but to be watching every shot for a sign of weakness, something which could be manipulated later – Dick had never agreed with that. It was why he had considerably more friends than his mentor.

“We get out of here, for now,” Dick told Cass. He moved through the doorway with her, dragging Steph and Damian with him; he ran with them until they saw Barbara, who was waiting for them outside. “We need to get home and suit up. There’s something more going on here.”

“Well _obviously_ , Grayson,” sneered Damian, “The Joker has a robot army. We should have fought him back there while we had him.”

“We couldn’t,” snapped Dick in reply, “Our identities are all we have. If we ever need to disappear, that’s how we do it. Whatever’s going on,” he glanced back towards the building, from which The Commissioner and Bruce were just appearing, the girl at their heels, a hoard of robots chasing them. “I think we’re gonna need help.”

“The girl?” Cass frowned. “Can we . . . trust her?”

Steph scoffed, “She took on an army with a bow and arrows and saved us all, I say she’s on our side.”

“It’s not about sides,” Dick replied. He was a brother and a joker, but a leader through and through when it came down to it. And a war against the Joker and robots warranted his full attention. “We can’t trust her, but we can use her. She’s good.”

“And until then?”

“We need to suit up.”

 

*

 

Kate Bishop’s night was going well, all things considered. Her calculations to when and where Masque would attack had been spot on, the rusty detective skills from L.A she’d been working on actually getting pretty good. She’d have to add that to the business card later.

It had all been going smoothly until it turned out the guards were Automon’s. Really, she should have seen it coming. But she didn’t, and now she had a slightly burning, worn down group of robots coming at her. Yet again.

Man, this whole thing sucked.

Now she was running for the exit, the only sound louder than her heart thumping in her chest the pounding of robot feet chasing her. All the civilians were out of harm’s way, except for the police commissioner and some rich guy who had started running when she had, so were a few feet ahead of her. There was no way she’d come out on top if she fought them all alone, either, so she needed a way to take them out fast – or at least slow them down.

An idea formed quickly in her head, and Kate did a quick stock check of the arrows she had left, reaching back and feeling for the right arrow tip with her left hand as she ran until she found the right one. At the doors, she skidded to a halt and calculated the distance in seconds.

“Ugh,” she moaned, lining up the arrow. “Boom.”

She let it go, and it activated on impact with the floor an inch in front of the closest robot’s foot. The explosion was massive, but she was ready for it. It incinerated a lot of the robots on impact as well as most of the building’s entrance, which she would feel guilty about - but since she’d sort of saved their lives, she figured that evened it all out. 

About a quarter of the robots remained in varying states of damage and disrepair. They reached out with fingers half gone, steps flinching and jerking as their circuits fried slowly. It reminded of her of when she’d blown up Madame Masque’s house, and Kate gave an involuntary shudder. She didn’t want a repeat of that: namely, getting her butt royally kicked by a mob of melted robots.

“Damn,” she said loudly, seeing that she hadn’t got them all. “Robot’s these days. They just _won’t_ stay down.”

Groaning aloud in annoyance, Kate lined up two arrows this time, firing them simultaneously towards the building. For a moment, at all went quiet in her head – the distant screams faded out, the ache in her body disappeared to free her movements; it was just her and the shot she needed to make.

The explosive arrow lit the robots up again, and the putty arrow kept them down, the gloop fixing the robots in place like grotesque statues. Although she paused on the steps of the building, parts of which had crumbled in the explosion and were crashing to the ground nearby, Kate quickly ran backwards a few steps, trying not to fall over her own feet.

The fight was over. It was chaos, but it was done.

“Hell, yes!” she shouted, turning to the crowd with a grin. Kate twisted her bow in her hands proudly, only barely stopping herself from hugging the nearest person in victory. “Did you just _see_ that? They thought they were gonna beat me up again but I was ready - I won this time!”

“Well done, miss,” The Commissioner replied dryly. He stared at Kate as if she were crazy, which she tried not to be insulted at. “Now – _who the hell are you_?”

“Uh,” Kate mumbled in reply, suddenly glad of the mask hiding her face. She glanced around at the hundred or so people she’d just saved, seeing their expressions range from awe to horror to anger, all directed at her. Back home, she had SHIELD clearance to fall back on if the cops ever got involved – but this was another dimension. The whole ‘masked hero’ gig might not be so appreciated here, but she tried anyway, “I’m an Avenger?”

“A _what_?” 

“I’m . . . leaving,” Kate corrected herself, touching the grapple arrow a split-second before she fired it in the direction of the next building along. As it went taunt in her hands and lifted her clear off the ground, she yelled over her shoulder towards the crowd, “You’re welcome! Sorry about the building!”

Landing on top of the building she had grappled to uneasily, staggering forward a few feet before leaning against the wall, Kate allowed herself five seconds to freak out. She had fought an Automon army by herself and beat them this time, something she hadn’t been able to do before – now she knew there was a threat over Clint’s head, her own was clear. She had to save him. 

Breathing heavily, she closed her eyes for just a moment and allowed the fear to flow through her. Masque was here, and she had allies – and an army. Kate had only herself. Those Automon’s were much stronger than she was, and she had a limited number of arrows remaining. 

“Okay,” she said to herself, “This looks bad. . . but you’ve faced worse. And that big dummy’s gonna get himself killed if you don’t get Masque to call off the hit. So you’ve got to buck up and run, Hawkeye.”

Nodding to confirm her own words, Kate gathered her energy and set off at a sprint across the rooftops, wanting to put as much space between her and the scene as possible. She already had two super-villains to fight without getting arrested on top of that, so for now she needed to find a place to lie low. 

 

*

 

From his position on top of the dingiest bar in his part of the city, Jason took a moment to appreciate the irony of him taking on the very Batman move of brooding in high places. Not that he was brooding – he was drinking. The owner of the bar was all too happy to give him free drinks and let him stay up there as long as he stopped any bar fights and kept the area under control.

Puffing out a breath of air which left his body as a delicate trail of smoke, he stubbed out the cigarette in his hand, the glove protecting it, ignoring the heat left over in his mouth. His helmet lay on the edge of the wall beside him, leaving him in just his domino mask, the air biting at his exposed cheeks in the bitter cold. 

Late autumn in Gotham was always desperately cold, and it got even worse in winter – sometimes the sun wouldn’t shine for days. Sometimes he wished he could just move to Metropolis or Coast, where at least he wouldn’t have to battle the elements as well as the lunatic of the week.

But screw it, Gotham was his home. He’d grown up on those streets and spent the best nights of his life on the rooftops with Batman . . . which led him full circle to the fact that some of his _worst_ nights had been in this city, too. It was a paradox that he would never solve, certainly not tonight.

Since it had been slow, seeing only one crime worth busting up from his vantage point in the five hours he’d been there, Jason decided to call it. For once, he might just get a decent night’s sleep and have done with it for a few hours. 

But unfortunately for Jason Todd, the world was never on his side of the ring.

“What the . . .” he murmured, straightening on instinct and jamming his helmet back onto his head. From the corner of his eye, he had just spotted a figure running across the rooftops a little way away, indistinct from the distance he was to them. “Damn it. They know not to come here!”

Believing one of his ex-family members had come into his territory again; Jason pulled his grappling hook free and began making his way towards the figure, expecting a fight with the demon brat or _worse_ , the replacement. Bruce knew better than to step in on Red Hood’s territory by now, and Jason had been on speaking terms with Dick for a few months, occasionally letting his brother in his part of the city – with advance warning. Only Tim and Damian seemed unable to grasp the concept of not stepping onto Jason’s turf – so he’d just have to show them the consequences.

Anger growing as he swung between the buildings, Jason began to feel the familiar rage bubbling up in his stomach, quickly trying to calm it, breathing slowly despite the speed at which he was moving. He might want to fight his brothers, but he didn’t want to hurt them too badly – when he got too angry nowadays, the old Lazarus residual feeling was quick to resurface and push him over the edge. Tonight, he didn’t want that.

Propelling himself so he would land on the roof in front of the running figure, Jason swung a final time, twisting in mid-air to land better on the roof, his entrance sending up white dust from the roof’s surface. As he straightened, a gun in each hand levelled at the chest of the figure, he nearly jumped out of his own skin in surprise. 

It was a girl. She wore a purple party dress that was ragged and ripped, exposing very bruised knees; a mask hiding her eyes and a shock of black hair half-unpinned around her shoulders. A vigilante then, but obviously not very prepared. Her dress may be pretty, but he doubted it would stop a bullet.

There was also an arrow pointed at his chest as she stopped breathless in front of him.

Jason froze despite himself, allowing the image of fear he liked to project to drop for a millisecond, thrown off balance by the arrival of the newcomer, “Who _are_ you?”

 

*

 

Facing the stranger on the roof, Kate didn’t even think before she replied. If she had, she would definitely have chosen better words, “I’m getting real tired of people asking me that.”

The man in front of her seemed even more shocked at that, clicking the safety of his guns off in annoyance. “Listen, lady. I usually only ask once. Who are you?”

“I could ask the same of you!”

“Are you telling me that you don’t know who I am?” the man asked, sounding a little offended. If he wasn’t holding a gun on her, she might even have found it funny. “Don’t play dumb with me. It won’t work.”

“I’m not trying to _play_ anything . . .”

“Sure.”

“I’m _not_ ,” Kate pouted. “I really don’t know who you are, but I don’t appreciate the gun on me. Is this how you treat all visitors to the city?”

“Only the ones carrying lethal weapons.”

“- Says the man with the gun.”

“Touché,” the man said, tilting his head to the side thoughtfully for a second. It was gone in an instant, his gun jerked back towards her before she even had the chance to think. Whimsical tone erased completely from his voice, the man spoke coldly, asking again. “Now, you’re either going to tell me who you are, or I’m going to shoot you. It’s your choice.” 

Kate stood on the roof, wishing she had brought her old team for back up. The man in front of her was built like a brick house, seriously, she had seen buff guys in her life but he was _something else_ . . . and he had guns. Real ones, as well as the arm sort. Lots of guns.

That didn’t exactly make her feel safe.

The hood didn’t help, either. It gave nothing away. He sounded young, but she had nothing else to go on, no way to read his expressions to get a better grip of the situation, and that put her at a disadvantage. Time to bail.

“Look! A distraction!”

He looked. She hadn’t expected it to work, but moved anyway, running across the roof before leaping towards the fire escape on the next building along. Behind her, she heard the man curse at being fooled and chase after her - but he didn’t shoot, which she took as a good sign.

“Stop!” the man yelled, his feet thundering behind her as Kate dashed as quickly as she could now, barely even pausing before leaping from one roof to another to check the distance. Something told her that doing what he said probably wouldn’t end very well for her.

But all too soon, she reached a dead end – the next building was too far away to jump to, and she didn’t have time to grab another grapple arrow before the hooded man caught up. Skidding to a halt, Kate pulled her bow tight again and paused at the edge of the roof, ready to shoot the man if he made a move.

He stopped facing her, only one gun in his hand now; the other shoved into a thigh holster as soon as he had began to run. A Mexican standoff. Both could shoot the other, but for now, they stood face to face. It would either end bloody or peacefully – there was no middle ground this time.

Kate and Jason glared each other down for a full minute before she worked up the confidence to speak.

“Listen, I’m not looking for trouble for once. I just need to leave now, and we can both go our separate ways with no one hurt.”

“Sorry,” the hooded man spoke. He looked tense, finger on the trigger gun slightly squeezing every few seconds, but a hint of amusement was clear in his voice. “I can’t do that. You’re in my territory and you’re carrying a weapon. We get a lot of lunatics here – I can’t just let you walk off with the bow.”

“I-I didn’t know this was your territory, I just got here,” Kate spluttered out, starting to worry. She did not just fight an army of robots just to be shot by the first person she came across. Although by his mask, he was either a vigilante of villain, neither of which put her in a good position. “I was looking for a place to hide, but I’ll leave. I’ll go.”

“I’m still not hearing an answer.”

“You’re not in control here!” Kate shouted back, starting to get pissed off. This guy was smirking and threatening her as if she couldn’t shoot him just as fast as he could her. “We could both shoot each other here, but I’d rather not do that, so why don’t you just calm down and we can _talk_?”

The man scared her then. Kate Bishop had been through so much that most of the time she just acted and didn’t think about the fact that she could have died until after, but as the hooded man slowly tilted his head and fixed her with a look as cold as his words, she feared he would kill her, stone dead. 

“If it’s a competition you’re looking for, you really should rethink that. How many times do you think I could shoot you before you let off an arrow? I’d wager a lot. Do not threaten me. Ever.”

“Enough, Hood.” The voice belonged to neither of them, and Kate squawked and re-aimed as a handful of figures landed on the roof to her left, the tallest of which moving to stand between her and the man with the guns. This new man was tall and dark, his body swathed in a black cape which billowed around him in the wind. He continued to speak with the other man, “She’s not an enemy. She stopped a robot attack at the Wayne building an hour ago.”

 

*

 

Dick landed on the building just after Bruce, already feeling more comfortable now that he was in his Nightwing suit and could fight for himself. He really, really hated having to run before. It wasn’t in his nature.

When he hit the roof, Jason and the stranger had their weapons drawn on each other, shooting daggers with their eyes. The girl didn’t look fazed, coolly staring the Red Hood down like it was nothing. Whoever she was, she was either ignorant or brave. He didn’t know which was more worrying.

After Bruce spoke, Jason stood still for a long minute – then he clicked the safety back on. Still ready to shoot if necessary, he cocked his head to one side and said, “Well, she should have just said so, then. Saved me all the running.”

Dick didn’t trust that tone, but couldn’t do anything about it. Stepping forwards, he smiled at the girl encouragingly and approached with his palms peacefully open. “Hi, I’m Nightwing – I protect this city. So do all the people behind me; we’re grateful for what you did tonight. ”

The girl regarded him for a moment before nodding. She didn’t put her weapon down.

“We’re not your enemies,” Nightwing added, “Please, there’s no need for your bow. Put it down.”

“How dumb do you think I am?” the girl demanded. “Nuh-uh, buddy. I’ve fallen for the ‘I’m on your side’ trick too many times to be that stupid; I’ll be keeping this where it is.”

“Okay,” he nodded. Dick was surprised Batman was letting him do the talking, but then again – he was always the people-person in their duo. “What do you call yourself? Hawk-ette? An . . . Avenger?

“I didn’t see you there.”

Dick groaned inwardly. Of course – they were out of costume then, and looked like a fancy dress store now. “We – uh – we spoke to the Commissioner. He told us what you did.”

“Oh. . . yeah, that’s what I said. I’m an Avenger – but the name’s Hawk _eye_.”

“Hawkeye,” Dick nodded. “Listen, I’ll square with you – we’re not used to other capes in our town. It’s sort of our turf, you know? The city we’ve chosen as our own to protect. We came because you’re obviously new here, and we wanted to know if you’re a friend.” He ignored Bruce’s little grunt at that, knowing friendship was better footing to start on than rivalry. “Now, _I_ believe you are – but we have questions about what’s going on here.”

Hawkeye paused, still watching them all wearily. Behind her mask, her eyes darted around, even lingering on the gap behind her for too long – considering the leap.

“I – I came here for Masque,” she eventually replied. “I _will_ stop her; a friend of mine depends on it. I don’t want any trouble, okay?” 

“Who is this Masque?” Jason asked. When Dick turned to look, he breathed a sigh of relief to see Hood’s guns put away and the other man standing quite calmly next to Batman. Robin, Batgirl and Black Bat stood a little further away. Tim had gone back to the cave to look up anything to do with Hawkeye, this 'Masque' character and how on earth the Joker was out of Arkham.

“No one good,” Hawkeye answered. “She makes those things – those Automon’s – and she makes people disappear, run’s a crime empire out of L.A. Or _my_ L.A, anyway. I followed her here because-”

Hawkeye cut off, her face creasing in worry. But it wasn’t for herself – Dick recognised that look. She was desperately worried about someone she cared for a lot – someone that was somehow threatened by ‘Madam Masque’ being in Gotham.

Dick sent her a reprieve, “So what’s she doing here, Hawkeye?”

“Gathering an army, I’d guess. I destroyed her last one, but here she has gathered the resources enough to take this world and mine.”

“ _This_ world? What do you mean?”

“I-I’ve said too much. I should go,” Hawkeye said, starting to move. The girl straightened confidentially, putting her bow to her side. Unfazed, she started to walk towards them – seemingly unbothered by Batman’s glare. “Thanks for your concern, but I’ll be going now. If you’re really the good guys – you won’t stop me.”

She took long strides, head in the air and bow at her side. It was the kind of easy confidence you couldn’t fake – if they were the night, here was a hero that belonged in the light. One unafraid or unashamed of themselves. Dick respected that.

Hawkeye had almost got to the other side of the roof when Batman spoke.

“Wait. You left this at the scene,” Bruce called, tone gruff. This was his ace in the hole and he knew it. He threw a small device across the space, skidding to Hawkeye’s feet as she turned in confusion – it had fallen from her during the fight, and was a communication device as far as they could figure.  
It was also broken, smashed and disassembled in the explosion.  
The girl froze, looking at the device at her feet and all of that confidence shedding in a second. The next second she was crouched beside it, frantically trying to piece the delicate parts back together with shaking hands. The change was instantaneous – just how young she was became clear then. 

She crumbled, simply. 

“No, no, no, no,” Hawkeye mumbled to herself, voice quiet and surprisingly wet with emotion. Everything about her seemed to be shaking as she kneeled on the rooftop, staring at the pieces in her hands like they were the most precious things on earth to her. She pushed a broken button and held it to her lips, “Please – America, can you hear me? Anyone? Please, please don’t be broken. _Please_.”

“Am I correct in assuming that was a communication device?” Batman asked, stepping towards her. 

“No,” Hawkeye shook her head, and Dick could see the tears in her eyes when she looked up. “That was my only way home. I’m _trapped_ here without it.”

**Author's Note:**

> written on a whim because I adore Kate Bishop. will continue if anyone likes it??


End file.
